


Equal Measure

by muzivitch



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-09
Updated: 2007-05-09
Packaged: 2017-10-18 10:30:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muzivitch/pseuds/muzivitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I've been wanting to post this for ages! Written for <a href="http://jumoon.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://jumoon.livejournal.com/"><b>jumoon</b></a> at <a href="http://spring-fluff.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://spring-fluff.livejournal.com/"><b>spring_fluff</b></a></p>
    </blockquote>





	Equal Measure

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to post this for ages! Written for [](http://jumoon.livejournal.com/profile)[**jumoon**](http://jumoon.livejournal.com/) at [](http://spring-fluff.livejournal.com/profile)[**spring_fluff**](http://spring-fluff.livejournal.com/)

_**[Fic] Equal Measure | Prince of Tennis, Yanagi/Kirihara. PG.**_  
Title: Equal Measure  
Author: Mizu [[](http://muzivitch.livejournal.com/profile)[ **muzivitch**](http://muzivitch.livejournal.com/) ]  
Series: Prince of Tennis  
Pairing: Yanagi/Kirihara  
Length: 1722  
Rating: PG  
Note: I've been wanting to post this for ages! Written for [](http://jumoon.livejournal.com/profile)[**jumoon**](http://jumoon.livejournal.com/) at [](http://spring-fluff.livejournal.com/profile)[**spring_fluff**](http://spring-fluff.livejournal.com/)

Marui had stopped snapping his gum three games before, and now leaned forward in the referee's chair, his hands braced on his knees and his eyes flicking across the court as the ball soared and the players sprinted after it. "15-15," he called as Kirihara dove after a hard volley Yanagi had sent to the far side of the court. Kirihara's teeth flashed in a bright, triumphant grin.

"I'm going to beat you this time, Yanagi-senpai," he said as he picked himself up off the hard packed clay of the Rikkai courts and dusted himself off.

"Perhaps," Renji returned, shifting his grip on his racket. Perspiration made his black hair appear even darker where it clung to his forehead. "Serve, Akaya."

"Yeah, yeah," Kirihara said as he stepped behind the service line and threw the tennis ball up into the air. He narrowed his eyes and tossed his curly bangs of hair out of his face as he swung, the racket slamming against the ball with a violent thwack.

Technically, he thought later as he slung his tennis bag over his shoulders and stuffed his hands in his pockets, Yanagi-senpai won. Technically. Yukimura had ended the match an hour after it had gotten fully dark by saying in that way of his that tennis practice was over, and they were all to go home. Yanagi-senpai called Yukimura-buchou implacable, and Kirihara guessed that was as good a word as any for it. Fukubuchou called him a pain in the ass with a power complex (though only when he didn't think anyone else could hear him), and Kirihara thought that was probably the truth too. Their buchou and fukubuchou had that in common, he mused, a smirk twisting his lips.

"I'm sure you don't mind if I walk to the train with you, Akaya," came a smooth, calm voice that jolted Kirihara from his thoughts, and then he jerked his head in assent.

"Sure. Is buchou assigning us commute buddies now?" he asked as he and his senpai turned in the direction of the station. He'd started taking the train recently, and the excuse was it was harder to fall asleep and end up, for example, at a rival school in Tokyo. Especially since the train made his commute to school coincide with Yanagi-senpai's, and Yanagi-senpai was quietly persistent in his pursuit of making sure Kirihara stayed awake and alert until they got off the train and made it to the school grounds. He kind of missed his early morning nap, Kirihara thought, but at least Yanagi's constant stream of quiet conversation was more interesting than Jackal's phone calls every five minutes had been. And he didn't keep him on his cell phone with forty-five minute long lessons in English the way Yagyuu-senpai had.

Yanagi talked to him, and it made Kirihara feel like they were more like friends than club-assigned babysitter and charge.

"Just for you," Yanagi answered, a purposely bland note entering his voice. "None of the rest of us have a history of ending up in another prefecture on the way to or from school."

"It was just once," Kirihara muttered. "I'm never going to live that down."

Yanagi's lips twitched. "Probably not," and smiled when Kirihara huffed out a breath.

"I'm not tired at night anyway," Kirihara continued after a second, hunching his shoulders. "I'm still..."

"Wired. From the match."

"Yeah."

Yanagi's brown eyes flicked towards Kirihara's. "You've challenged me to a lot of matches recently," he noted out loud. "At least once a week since the tennis season ended."

Kirihara could feel his cheeks flush and he ducked his head slightly to hide it. "You're graduating soon," he said. "In March. I want to beat you before you do."

"Hmm," was all Yanagi said, and he left it alone. But Sanada and Yukimura were graduating too, he thought, and Kirihara hadn't beaten either of them yet either. And wasn't trying, much. It was only Yanagi that Kirihara was challenging every week.

They didn't speak until they'd walked through the station to the train, squeezed into the car - clinging to the bar overhead as commuters jostled around them - and had gone through the first several stops. "Akaya," Yanagi said.

"Yeah?" Kirihara said, twisting his head around to look up at Yanagi.

"Call me this weekend," he said, and the corner of his mouth kicked up as Kirihara's eyes widened slightly. "We can finish our match then."

"Sure," Kirihara said after a slightly stunned pause. He glanced over his shoulder as the doors slid open and the crowd began to push out, and when he spoke again his voice had gone bright and eager. "Okay, senpai. I'll call Sunday."

  
*

Yanagi Renji was awake on Sunday morning when his cell phone became to ring softly but persistently, but no one else in his house was. He pressed the send button with a slight smile. "Akaya. You're up early."

"I waited an hour to call you. Yanagi-senpai."

Yanagi lifted an eyebrow and on an impulse walked across the room to the front of the house and twitched the curtains away from the window. Not the least bit surprising, he thought, one corner of his lips kicking up in amusement. Kirihara wasn't just up, he was already at his house, leaning against the railing out front. "I don't suppose you want to come in for breakfast."

There was a surprised pause, and then Kirihara cast his eyes towards the front window, and his bright eyes glinted. "Do I have to?" he said after another second's pause, a slightly impatient note entering his voice and his nose scrunching up in annoyance. Yanagi let the curtain fall back into place.

"No," he said simply, striding across the room and picking up his bowl and his cup and carrying them into the kitchen to place in the sink. He'd only eaten about half a bowl of his miso and was just on his second cup of tea, he thought, but it was enough for now. He pulled on his jacket and tossed his tennis bag over his shoulder. "Let's go."

*

There was still enough of a chill in the air at 6 a.m. to keep their warm up jackets on as they chased silently across the courts at Rikkai, their short, harsh breaths the only sound breaking the morning silence. The sun was barely a hint in the eastern sky when they began, but by the time they ended - "best of five," Yanagi had decreed before they even threw a ball into the air - it was high and bright in the crisp autumn sky.

"That match was mine," Yanagi said as he shouldered his racket and walked towards the net. "3-2."

"Yeah." Kirihara's skin was damp with sweat, and he carelessly pushed his thick hair out of his eyes as he squinted up at Yanagi.

"It was closer than I'm comfortable with," Yanagi continued with a crooked half-smile. "You've gotten better. Learned to focus."

"I've been practicing."

"I know." Yanagi tipped his head to one side. "Akaya?"

"What?"

"You've only been pushing yourself against me lately; you haven't challenged either Genichirou or Seiichi in a month. Why?" In truth, he thought, of the three of him, he was the weakest player and thus in theory, he would be the least challenge. Genichirou had more raw power and Seiichi was more cunning... but Yanagi's strength was in his perfection of data tennis to a level that few could match; he almost always knew more about his opponents than they knew about themselves. It was particularly true, he thought, when it came to Akaya. He would have said that there wasn't much about their second year that could catch him off-guard... but his recent behavior couldn't quite be logically explained.

Kirihara's eyes shifted down, watching as his fingers tightened around the top of the net. He knew Yanagi saw it too. "It's stupid," he finally said after a pause, "but I wanted to beat you before I... did something."

Yanagi's eyebrows disappeared under his bangs, but he didn't say a word, just waiting instead, and Kirihara could feel his cheeks start to heat. "I wanted to beat you," he repeated before, "aw, hell. I'll just do it now." And he moved, his hands flying off the net to fist into Yanagi's damp T-shirt. He yanked his senpai forward until their lips met and fused, his bright eyes screwed tightly shut.

If he opened them, he would have seen Yanagi's dark eyes flash open wide with surprise for a split second before he let them slide shut again and leaned forward to kiss back.

"Yanagi-senpai," Kirihara managed to stammer out when they pulled away from each other. His face, Yanagi noted, was lobster-red.

"Why did you need to defeat me to kiss me?" he asked calmly.

"Uh, well." Kirihara turned a little redder, if that was even possible, and reached up to smooth his hair back in a nervous gesture. "I just wanted to be on the same level as you. Your equal."

"Ah." Yanagi's smile was almost imperceptible. "We aren't equal in tennis yet."

"No." Kirihara's shoulders sagged slightly, and then straightened when Yanagi spoke again.

"But our relationship isn't just tennis," he added evenly after the slightest of pauses. Yanagi pushed the sleeve of his jacket away from his wrist and glanced down at the simple sports watch he had strapped to his wrist. "It's nearly one p.m., Akaya," he said. "Let's get lunch."

"I can't," Kirihara said. "I spent my allowance for the week already." He shrugged as Yanagi lifted a single eyebrow. "Someone beat my high score at the arcade."

"Of course," Yanagi murmured. The was absolutely nothing surprising about that. "Well, I have enough money," he added after a moment, and his brown eyes glinted with sharp amusement from under his thick lashes. "And I think I can pay for the first date."


End file.
